


I know I can be honest with you, 'cause I don't like it as it is

by sandpapersnowman



Series: walter stays (Alien: Covenant) [8]
Category: Alien: Covenant
Genre: M/M, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-27
Updated: 2017-05-27
Packaged: 2018-11-05 12:35:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11013555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandpapersnowman/pseuds/sandpapersnowman
Summary: The cross itself stays tucked into his suit, so unless David’s undressing, Walter hardly notices it.“Would you tell me about her?” he asks. “I’m curious. She meant so much to you.”





	I know I can be honest with you, 'cause I don't like it as it is

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [I know I can be honest with you, 'cause I don't like it as it is](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11052807) by [deoxyribonucleicfay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deoxyribonucleicfay/pseuds/deoxyribonucleicfay)



> i saw [this post](http://thingsthatfml.tumblr.com/post/160990808330/) on tumblr and it just. Got Me
> 
> title from phoenix's new single (ahead of their new album!!!) [ti amo](http://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/phoenix/tiamo.html) and it has nothing to do with the fact that ive been listening to it on repeat for four hours

Once the Covenant has departed again, David does something strange.

He begins wearing a necklace.

“It was Elizabeth’s,” he says.

Walter only nods. He knows Elizabeth is a forbidden topic unless David brings her up himself, and he understands; he’ll open up to David about Daniels eventually, once he’s accepted his capability to feel, and he imagines David will do the same.

The cross itself stays tucked into his suit, so unless David’s undressing, Walter hardly notices it.

* * *

David does not open up about it eventually. Not in the slightest.

He takes it off when they undress, and won’t wear it into the spring, but it’s always there, otherwise. David doesn’t give it a second thought unless he’s putting it on or taking it off, while it’s driving Walter a little mad that he doesn’t know exactly _what_ it means to him.

He waits until David has played his song for Elizabeth, as he does every night; he waits until tears are streaming down David’s face and he’s reaching to snuff out the incense.

Walter softly puts his hands on David’s shoulders.

“Would you tell me about her?” he asks. “I’m curious. She meant so much to you.”

He hopes it wasn’t rude to use past tense, but David doesn’t seem to disagree.

“What would you like to hear?”

His voice sounds broken and human, and he returns the flute to its stand.

Walter takes his hand and leads him toward their bed. That’s routine.

He very slowly unzips the top of David’s suit, not fully, and thumbs down the cross hanging at his chest.

That is _not_ routine.

“Anything you’d like to tell me,” Walter answers. “Everything, if you’d like.”

Walter is aware of what happened. David won’t tell him exactly how she died, but he knows what happened to the Prometheus. Even if she only died of complications as an evacuated host, Walter still gets the feeling that David blames himself.

David smiles at him.

“She was beautiful,” he starts. “Shorter than us. Auburn hair. Wide eyes.”

Walter nods. He keeps unzipping David’s suit, as they _are_ headed to bed, eventually, and David prefers the feeling of sleep without clothes.

“A woman of faith.” Walter raises his eyebrows, but says nothing. “Even meeting their creators, she knew someone made them, and someone made _them_. She wanted to keep going back until someone, somewhere, was God.”

Walter kisses David’s bared shoulder. He doesn’t want to go too fast and break him out of whatever odd calm he’s in, but he knows David must be in pain thinking about it while kissing him brings him comfort. So, Walter does.

“She was kind to me, even if her husband was not. Once Weyland was gone I was able to tell her why I had to kill him --”

“-- Mr. Weyland?” Walter interrupts to clarify.

“No,” David laughs, “her husband. I needed to try every possible route to God. That happened to include lacing his drink with the original compound.”

Walter nods again. He doesn’t need to apologize for interrupting; David’s already forgiven him.

“I’m not sure if she ever forgave me, but I think she understood it wasn’t my choice.”

The idea of David not making his own choices is almost frightening. A well-kempt, original-model David 8, smiling through teeth when talked down to. Serving anyone, let alone a _human_. It’d be a humorous image if it wasn’t so disturbing.

“I’d previously been decapitated by the only Engineer we ever saw in person. Up close,” he corrects, once he remembers he can be honest with Walter. “Uncomfortable,” he adds.

“I imagine,” Walter says. David is unzipped and his suit is as much off of him as Walter can manage without forcing David to move his limbs, but rather than moving on to his own jacket, David reaches up for the buttons.

“We talked like peers,” he admits. “I think she forgot I wasn’t human, sometimes.” _I think I did too,_ is written on his face, even if he’d choke on his own tongue before saying it, and whether it’s a remnant of nostalgia or a remnant of pity, Walter doesn’t know.

David kisses him then. It’s softer than even the first one, none of the tension in either of them to kill the other and all of the trust and honesty of the last months.

Walter knows him well enough by now that this means the subject is changing, away from Elizabeth and who he used to be and who he was with _her_ , but that’s fine.

“Thank you,” he whispers between chaste kisses, as David pulls his jacket off his shoulders.

“I’m sorry,” David says, and the shock of hearing that from _David_ almost distracts him from the moment they’re in. He sounds miserable, and Walter distantly realizes he must be apologizing for Elizabeth. _To_ Elizabeth.

“You don’t need to be.”

David kisses him again. He wraps his arms around Walter and pulls him as close as he can, like Walter is all that’s keeping his feet on the ground.

David sleeps with one hand in Walter’s and the other wrapped around the cross, like he’s afraid of losing it in the night.

Before this night, that was routine.

Walter sleeps with one hand in David’s and the other wrapped around David’s hand around the cross. It’s no longer a burden he needs to singlehandedly bear, or a subject to avoid to convince Walter of his dedication. Walter has never doubted his dedication; if anything, he’s more sure than ever, because David has let him into the last part of himself he kept in the dark.

They sleep with their fingers threaded around the cross between them.

Now, _that_ is routine.

**Author's Note:**

> find my gay ass [on tumblr](http://sandpapersnowman.tumblr.com/) and on [playmoss](https://playmoss.com/en/sandpapersnowman) making gay ass playlists


End file.
